


The Mystery of the Ultramarines

by Kereea



Series: Text to Speech and Beyond [2]
Category: If The Emperor Had A Text To Speech Device, Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Comedy, Drama, Gen, Mystery, mild Kitten/Magnus shipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-19
Updated: 2018-08-19
Packaged: 2019-06-29 22:03:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,989
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15738216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kereea/pseuds/Kereea
Summary: The Emperor sends Magnus (with Kitten as a babysitter) to take the Thousand Sons on a joint-mission with the Ultramarines to mess with the Black Crusade’s vanguard. Because if someone can find out what is up with those weirdly invincible guys it’s a team of formerly-evil Psykers and the only Custodes to maintain any sort of sanity and armor.(Sequel to Rescue of the Thousand Sons)





	The Mystery of the Ultramarines

 “ **JUST FUCKING SAY IT** ,” the Emperor said. “ **I WILL NOT SEND YOU FROM THIS PALACE WITHOUT IT**.”

 “Urgh, fine,” Magnus said, holding his hand out for the papers. Kitten quickly handed them over and Magnus read the vow aloud. “I, Magnus the Red, Primarch of the Thousand Sons, hereby promise my father, the Emperor of Mankind, that I will not in any way open myself to falling to Khorne while I am gone as my father has already graciously retrieved my soul from Tzeentch and making him get my soul back from a fucking Chaos God a second time would make me the second-worst son to have ever lived. Thus, I shall maintain my temper and listen to my—oh _come on_ — _babysitter_ the Captain General of the Custodes, known colloquially as Kitten, as he owns my soul anyway.”

 Magnus lowered the papers, “Are you _happy_ now?”

 “ **FUCKING FINALLY** ,” the Emperor said. “ **YOU HAVE A SERIOUS TEMPER AND SO IT WAS A SERIOUS THREAT. CAPTAIN GENERAL, KEEP AN EYE ON HIM OR I WILL CHANGE YOUR TITLE TO CAPTAIN BANANA**.”

 “Yes, of course, my lord, erm…will you be okay without me again? You complained at length about the other Custodes last time I got back,” Kitten said.

 “ **EH. I CAN FUCKING HANDLE THOSE WEIRDOS BY NOW. CUSTODISI SEEMS TO BE GRADUATING TO SOME NICELY STIMULATING ARGUMENTS NOW AND THEN, MIGHT AS WELL ENCOURAGE THAT. PLUS, I WANT TO SEE HOW CORVUS HANDLES BEING AROUND THEM. HA HA HA** ,” the Emperor said.

 “That is just…my lord, poor Corvus!” Kitten gasped as Magnus cringed.

 “ **I’M HOPING TO DRIVE HIM NUTS ENOUGH TO SNAP HIM OUT OF HIS FUNK** ,” the Emperor said. “ **YOU KNOW, HAVE THAT TRIO JUST BE THEMSELVES AND DRIVE HIM TO SUCH A POINT OF W-T-F THAT IT BREAKS THROUGH ALL HIS EMO SHIT**.”

 “That is…not how depression works,” Magnus said. “Father, I don’t even _like_ Corvus, but from what I’ve been reading-”

 “ **I GAVE YOU THOSE SELF-HELP BOOKS FOR YOUR TEMPER, NOT OTHER SHIT, YOU HALF-DEMON PAIN IN THE ASS** ,” the Emperor said.

 “All right, back to the topic at hand,” Kitten said. “So, your plan is for Magnus to take a company of his sons to the outpost we think is going to have contact with the Black Crusade’s vanguard? Even though the Ultramarines are already there?”

 “ **I AM SENDING MAGNUS AND THE THOUSAND SONS BECAUSE THE SMURFS ARE FUCKING THERE. IF THE SMURFS WEREN’T THERE, I’D SEND THE FUCKING IMPERIAL FISTS TO FORTIFY THE POSITION AND THE DARK ANGELS FOR INITIAL CONTACT AND INFORMATION GATHERING** ,” the Emperor said. “ **BUT I WANT TO KNOW WHAT IS UP WITH THOSE FUCKING SMURFS SO I’M SENDING OUR BEST PSYKERS SHORT OF ME TO DO IT. PLUS THE WHOLE FORMER-CHAOS-EMPLOYEE THING SHOULD LET THEM FUCKING NOTICE IF IT’S A DEMON THING OR NOT**.”

 “And we’re just hoping the modifications Vulkan made to my armor prevent them from noticing the half-demon thing, are we?” Magnus asked.

.o.o.o.

_“So, you think you can hide the claws?” Magnus asked, eyeing his hand. Despite his best efforts, he still couldn’t undo the transformation Tzeentch had forced upon him. The Emperor had been no help either, saying Magnus shouldn’t have left the palace if he hadn’t wanted other people controlling his soul and Tzeentch fucking with him._

_Vulkan laughed, “Ah-ha-ha, **no** , my no-longer-evil brother-friend! Instead, we shall hide them in plain sight! You and your Thousand Sons have always had nice decorative weird things on your armor, and so we shall make it look like your clawed fingers and toesies are just part of the look!”_

_“That…makes a surprising amount of sense,” Magnus said._

_“Yes, well,_ it would ‘ave been a gronkin’ hard time to stuff those change-ed feets of your in proper boots! _” Vulkan said. “This way is much easier for me and should also avoid foot pain for you, brother!”_

_Magnus shrugged, “Always a good thing…and the wings?”_

_“Oh, I have got nothing at all for the wings. They are so big, brother! No, we should not stuff them into anything!” Vulkan said. “And if we armor them, then you cannot use them due to too much added weight!”_

_“So, we just let them get_ shot _?” Magnus demanded._

 _“Hmm. A good point,” Vulkan said. “I shall think on it!_ ”

.o.o.o.

 “ **GIVEN THEIR ORDERS ARE TO WORK ALONGSIDE YOU AND THEY ARE SO FUCKING PERFECT AT FOLLOWING THEIR ORDERS, EVEN IF THEY DO NOTICE IT I AM FAIRLY CERTAIN THEY WILL WORK WITH IT** ,” the Emperor said. “ **BUT IF YOU AND KITTEN WANT TO WORK ON COVER STORIES, THAT’S COOL TOO**.”

 “Plan A: Tzeentch cursed you for saving your legion,” Kitten said, pointing at Magnus. Magnus hummed and nodded at the idea.

 “ **SEE HOW EASY THAT WAS? THIS IS WHY I’M SENDING HIM. HE’S SMART FOR AN AUTOMATON**.”

 “We’re back to that again?” Kitten whined.

 “Come on, Father. Rogal said you were despondent that the Captain General left his job taking care of you,” Magnus said.

 “ **I MEANT IT AS A COMPLIMENT. REALLY. HIS MACHINE-LIKE ABILITY TO JUST GO WITH SHIT IS VERY USEFUL. AND MEANS THINGS LIKE HAVING TO DUEL TZEENTCH WON’T BREAK HIS BRAIN. SO HOPEFULLY THE SMURFS WON’T EITHER. WE HAVE ENOUGH CUSTODES WITH ISSUES AROUND HERE. WHAMMUDES IS WAY TOO INTO ORBITAL BOMBARDMENT FOR IT TO BE OKAY, EVEN WITHIN THEIR NORMAL TRIPPINESS**.”

 “Oh. Oh my,” Kitten said. “Well…I am their boss. I could have a word with-”

 “ **NO. I AM USING IT TO TEACH KARSTODES COMPASSION. PROFESSOR EMPEROR KNOWS WHAT HE IS DOING** ,” the Emperor said. “ **YOU ARE GOING TO INVESTIGATE THE SMURFS WITH MAGNUS, AND REPORT BACK TO ME. MEANWHILE, I’LL SEE IF THIS SLOW DAWNING OF INDIVIDUALITY AND SENSE IN THE TRIPPY TRIO CAN BE STEERED TOWARDS SOME REAL FUCKING ARMOR**.”

 “I pray your wise guidance may lead to at least one of them donning a shirt, or dare I hope, real pants,” Kitten said, putting a hand to his chest. “Truly that would be a joyous day.”

 “ **EVERY DAY IS JOYOUS AROUND ME, CORNCOB**.”

 “Of course, my Emperor. I am just hoping you plan for clothed Custodes comes to fruition, is all,” Kitten said. “May we once again all be dazzled by your strategic brilliance.”

 “…Huh?” Magnus asked.

 “ **HUSH UP, MAGNUS. YOUR OLD MAN IS BUSY BEING AWESOME** ,” the Emperor said. “ **SO, YEAH. GONNA SEE IF I CAN GET SOME CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT OUT OF THOSE IDIOTS WHILE I SIC THEM ON CORVUS. AND, YOU KNOW, PLAN TO BEAT THIS BLACK CRUSADE INTO ITS CRAPPY CHAOS PARTS**.”

 “Sweet,” Kitten said. “…Wait, character development?”

 “ **FOURTH DIMENSIONAL WRAP FUCKERY, NO NEED FOR CONCERN** ,” the Emperor said.

 “I am concerned,” Magnus said.

 “ **YEAH. BUT YOU’RE A NOSY NITWIT WHO WENT AND RAN OFF TO LET TZEENTCH GIVE HIM DUMB HORNS AND ONLY DIDN’T GET KIDNAPPED BY THE CARD SKILLZ OF MY FORMER SECRETARY. YOU STILL AIN’T SHIT, SON. SO GO FORTH, AND LEARN TO BE SHIT** ,” the Emperor said.

 “…I am not sure if that sounds the way you wanted it to,” Magnus said slowly.

 “ **IT TOTALLY DID. SERIOUSLY, GET LOST. YOU HAVE SMURFS TO SMURFING INVESTIGATE ALREADY. MOVE YOUR RED AND GOLDEN ASSES** ,” the Emperor said.

 Kitten and Magnus took the hint, and Magnus teleported them both out of the throne room.

 “…That was more kiss-up than you’ve been in a while,” Magnus noted.

 “If he gets real clothes on even _one_ of the other Custodes I will write a fucking musical in your father’s honor,” Kitten said. “ _And_ choreograph it.”

 “Point taken,” Magnus said.

 “Right. So, which of your sons are we working with? I haven’t had much time to get acquainted,” Kitten said.

 “Well, with Arhiman being off Black Crusading, I’m technically without a first captain, so we did some reorganizing,” Magnus said. “And then I realized whoever I make first captain should actually stay behind and make sure no one else does something stupid while I’m out, and then all the cults starting trying to pick whichever mission they wanted most-”

 “Cults? Did you get people from all nine?” Kitten asked.

 “How do you know about—anyway, yes,” Magnus said. “Besides that, we don’t really have any Rubrics since the shit Father and I pulled in the Warp _apparently_ released all Rubrics loyal to me over Arhiman to rest. And we don’t have any of our old demon-based backup.”

 “So you’re down to just under a thousand Psykers…and that’s it,” Kitten said. “Well, I mean, they’re all Space Marines and the various specialties therein, right?”

 “True, but…well. We’ve got work to do,” Magnus said. “I’m leaving Maat in charge back here, and taking Aweil and Sobekka with us.”

 “So…who are they?” Kitten asked.

.o.o.o.

 “Remember: these Ultramarines are not as you remember them, neither as enemies nor as allies,” Magnus said to his assembled sons. “ _Something_ is going on and we are to observe and tally our observations in order to report back to my father after the battle is won. As this is an experiment, we shall not interfere with the Ultramarines with our powers beyond battling alongside them. I want to have the _minimum_ amount of effect on their behavior, am I clear?”

 “My Primarch, does this mean we should only assist them in battle in certain ways?” Magnus’ current ‘second-in-absence-of-that-idiot-Arhiman,’ Aweil, asked.

 “Assist them as you would any other army without affecting their behavior,” Magnus said.

 “… _Any_ other army?” one of the marines asked hopefully. One of his brothers groaned and shoved him.

 “Not the fucking furries, we’re not trying to mess with them or show them up,” Magnus said. “We are _observing_ , not proving our superiority. Now, the Captain General of the Custodes has assembled a report on the Ultramarines for us.”

 “Well, as best I could; some things seemed rather odd while I was compiling information,” Kitten said. “I must agree that the Ultramarines’ abilities to win are definitely in the realm of the wildly improbable. For crying out loud, they kidnapped Magnus from you all during a victory party and stuffed him in a box. A _demon prince_ , in a _box_. I mean…what the hell?”

 “Yes, _thank you,_ I remember the box!” Magnus snapped.

 “Anyway,” Kitten said, “Some of the reports I have compiled are simply insane. They do not make logical sense in any way whatsoever. _Completely_ ridiculous actions like the chapter master ripping a Necron pylon out of the ground with his hands, or taking an absurdly low amount to wounds despite being right in the middle of a massive firefight with no cover…the amount of empirical data is of course low compared to the tales but still…also there are their, erm, attitudes.”

 “What about them?” one of the marines asked.

 “They appear to…act the part of the perfect space marine,” Kitten said. “Like something out of a piece of propaganda. My fellow Custodes referred to it as, and I quote, ‘so unfabulous and trippy.’”

 “That trio of lunatics thought it was _trippy_?” Magnus asked, horrified.

 Kitten nodded mutely.

 Magnus massaged the bases of his horns, “Prepare your brains, gentlemen. This may be more of a mindfuck than working for that shit Tzeentch ever was.”

.o.o.o.

 The Emperor had allegedly had a vision that the Black Crusade would start its advance around the planet of Ergoth V, a small agrarian world with really good potato yields. Magnus had questioned why the demons would start there, as the planet had a small population of souls to devour compared to others nearby, only for the Emperor to point out it supplied food to those others and therefore taking it first would make the others more desperate. Magnus had conceded that desperation did breed good demon food, and the smaller planet’s lack of defenses could make it tempting…so they were going to plant a bunch of Space Marines on it to see if that worked in averting a crisis.

 “How do you think this will go?” Magnus asked as their ship landed. “My money is on headache-inducing.”

 “Well, that’s a little complicated,” Kitten said. “As a returned Primarch you obviously outrank their Chapter Master…however given the Thousand Sons, as currently set up, do not in any way follow the organizations set out by the _Codex Astartes_ I’m not sure quite how recognized that will be. After all, a huge component of the _Codex_ was breaking up the larger legions into chapters to limit the power of the Primarchs, but on the other hand your legion _is_ still the size of a chapter anyway due to…erm, its present low manpower and the majority of later chapters would still listen to their first-founding chapter’s Primarch anyway, such as with Dorn and the Black Templars.”

 “I would assume the real issue would be the number of Psykers…that is all of us but you, Captain General,” Aweil said.

 “Well the Psykers are technically to all be Librarians within the Librarium…which is their own unit…which we kind of are…” Aweil’s second, Sobekka, said with a chuckle.

 “Eh, good enough,” Magnus said, shrugging. “We had less than two months to fully re-organize our legion to fight against Chaos, paint our armor, and write training manuals on everything we know about Tzeentch. Like we had time to get in _proper Codex formation_ or whatever. Seriously, some of you barely got the armor painting done to any level of decency, the fuck with formations…”

 Kitten sighed. Magnus had brought a little over two hundred marines with him, roughly a quarter of his forces. Others had been paired with the Raven Guard for poking around looking for early Chaos attacks, while the rest were helping Vulkan and the Salamanders in inventing new weapons and defenses to use against the Crusade or still getting their armor painted back to red. As a cohesive unit, any group of the Thousand Sons would be formidable. The only real weakness Kitten could see was melee; even then, Magnus and a few others were decent enough at it and the Ultramarines would probably take the bunt of the melee fighting.

 “Should I announce you?” Kitten asked as the door opened. “I mean, you are a Primarch.”

  “Sure. It’ll give me a little more time to make an initial scan of the Ultramarines,” Mangus said. “…In fact, find a reason to go on, give me as much time as you can without being an ass about it.”

 Kitten nodded, “Yeah, I think I can do that.”

 “Greetings, Captain General!” an Ultramarine hailed as they approached.

 “…Well, hop to it,” Magnus hissed. It took all of Kitten’s discipline not to elbow the red giant for it.

 “Greetings! I, Captain General of the Adeptus Custodes, Guardians of the Emperor, Keeper of Imperial Lore, and personal Vox-phone to the Emperor of Mankind Himself, blessed be his name, hereby announce the Primarch of the Thousand Sons, Magnus the Red, the Crimson King, Near-Mightiest Imperial Psyker second only to his Holy father the Man-Emperor of Mankind, blessed be his name, and many of his Thousand Sons, also some of the finest Psykers in the Imperium with in-depth knowledge of Chaos and all its twists and turns returned to the side of Order through the grace and determination of the Emperor, blessed be his name, the stubbornness of their Primarch, and the sense of your truly,” Kitten said before taking a deep breath. “Hello, Ultramarines.”

 “Whoa,” Aweil said. A couple Thousand Sons went to applaud before catching themselves.

 “It is good to greet you,” the Chapter Master said stiffly as he came forward. Kitten felt he sounded a bit weary. “I am Marneus Clagar. I understand that the Emperor wished you to assist us in some way?”

 “Work alongside and observe,” Magnus said, cutting off Kitten before he could answer. “As you understand, my lei— _chapter_ has been away for quite some time, including missing the entirety of the adaptation of the _Codex Astartes_. As the most Codex-following chapter in the Imperium, my father felt observing you would leave my sons well-informed about working with their other battle brothers.”

 “We could be honored to aid you in complying with the Holy Codex!” one of the Ultramarines said enthusiastically.

 “…Yes,” Magnus said after trying and failing to pick which one had spoken out of the assembled, very-identical crowd. “I will aid my sons in the basics of setting up camp with the Captain General, and then we shall come to your quarters for a talk, Chapter Master.”

 “Is it just me or are they fucking clones?” one of the Thousand Sons asked Kitten. “Like…more so than usual with Space Marines?”

 “Erm, no comment,” Kitten hissed back. “…I’m going to blame the lack of formation decorum on Tzeentch, but _seriously_ , you couldn’t hold it together for like five more minutes until we got going?”

 “What’s formation decorum?” the space marine asked.

 Kitten glared at Magnus. Magnus pretended he couldn’t psychically sense the anger coming off the Custodes and addressed Clagar, “Very well, we shall be on our way. I look forward to speaking with you. We should have much to discuss.”

 Magnus casually moved in front of the marine who’d spoken to Kitten, allowing Sobekka to punch his idiot brother in the head.

 “What’s formation decorum _my perfect ass_!” Sobekka hissed as the Ultramarines dispersed.

 “Well, did I talk long enough for you to get anything?” Kitten asked.

 “Yes. Something is clearly off,” Magnus said.

 “The psychic energy around them was dreadful!” Sobekka said, shuddering.

 “But…they’re not psykers!” Kitten said.

 “All humans have latent psychic energy, Companion,” Magnus said. “But those Ultramarines…it felt different…”

 “It reminded me of long before I was a captain, during the days of the Great Crusade,” Aweil said. “Of the…of the Orks.”

 “ _Orks are psychic_?” Kitten yelped, jumping several feet in the air in shock. He looked around, making sure no Ultramarines were near enough to hear.

 “Eh,” Magnus said, wiggling a hand back and forth. “It’s not a conscious sort of psychic power, but it is there…hmm, I wasn’t looking for that. Thank you, Aweil, I shall focus my attention in that direction. Do the same.”

 “Orks…Orks have Psykers…” Kitten said, shuddering.

 “More like all Orks are a sort of latent psychic in a stronger form than Humanity or the Eldar,” Magnus said. “It’s how their weapons work. I never got to study it much, but really-”

 “Okay, okay, let’s stop this so I don’t have a freakout before chatting with the Chapter Master!” Kitten said. “Wait. Magnus, your brother Vulkan is a bit…Ork-y…now. Does it feel like him?”

 “Vulkan still feels like Vulkan, even when he gets…Ork-y,” Magnus said, saying the descriptor with extreme distaste. “And absolutely nothing like how the Ultramarines felt, thank you.”

 “I can confirm, Primarch Vulkan feels nothing like that,” Aweil said.

 “He tracked you down for a hug?” Kitten asked.

 “He tried to hug all of my sons for their loyalty to me over Chaos. I managed to distract him after the first few,” Magnus said, wincing at the memory.

 “For which some of us are very grateful, my Primarch!” Sobekka said.

.o.o.o.

 The Thousand Sons and Magnus supervised the setup of their part of the outpost, while Kitten went over a small chart of the Ultramarine’s current organization and tried to hold the psykers’ attention despite their obvious lack of giving a shit.

 “At the moment more than half their companies are here, which is nice. That gives us an opportunity to observe multiple different types of Space Marines, both in regards to how you’ll organize your group and as to what is up with the Ultramarines,” Kitten said. He hummed. “Hmm. So, we have the First, or Veteran, Company, the Second and Fourth Battle Companies, he Sixth and Ninth Reserve Companies, and the Tenth Scout Company.”

 “Which Company are the Librarians in, then?” Sobekka asked.

 “Erm…none. There is a supporting squad sent from the Librarium, but as we’ve said, they’re segregated from the rest,” Kitten said.

 “Wait, wait, _wait_ ,” Magnus said. “There’s not a single fucking Librarian in _any_ of their ten companies? They’re _all_ outside the main thousand men?”

 “Can you not be enraged by idiocy yet? I have more,” Kitten said.

 “Oh no,” Aweil said, putting his head in his hands.

 “Librarians, Tech Marines, Apothecaries, and Chaplains are not counted as part of a chapter’s thousand-man numbers,” Kitten said.

 “…So, like the Black Templars’ finding of loopholes, technically we have a way to increase our numbers rather drastically if we wish,” Magnus said, smirking.

 “Well, that would depend on if you do class your entire legion-chapter- _whatever_ as Librarians but…yeah,” Kitten said, shrugging. “I mean, ignoring the riskiness of using your gene-seed and all, given its tendency to mutate.”

 “Well, obviously. And frankly there’s no point in doing it right now anyway, more important things to do,” Magnus said.

 Kitten cringed, “I am worried that I gave you this idea.”

 “Anyways, what other things have you uncovered, Companion?” Magnus asked, ignoring the comment.

 “Yep, I should be terrified,” Kitten muttered.

 “You really should,” Aweil agreed, nodding.

 “All right. So, While I do think the splitting into tenths may work out for the Thousand Sons simply for mobility reasons, that would rely on having a member strong enough to serve as a Company Head…and by ‘strong’ I don’t mean fighting, I mean able to handle the stress, the paperwork, and other Chapter Heads and military leaders they need to work with,” Kitten said.

 “I’m not so sure how well tenths will work, myself,” Magnus said. “Given it’s Psykers we’re organizing, there’s other variables to consider other than basic size and standard functions…”

 “Well, for the moment you can divide command between yourself, Aweil, and Sobekka. And, well me. Given I technically outrank everyone but Magnus,” Kitten said. “Actually, I may outrank you too, Magnus. We’ll have to check sometime.”

 “We’re going to ignore that!” Magnus said quickly.

 “That wasn’t even about the soul thing,” Kitten said slowly.

 “I can’t hear you,” Magnus said.

 “Seriously, I’m just unsure of your exact military rank at this moment,” Kitten explained.

 “Sobekka and I can finish up here. Might want to go see the Chapter Master before you’re too stressed, my Primarch,” Aweil said helpfully.

 “Too late!” Magnus said. “But we’re going to do it anyway.”

 “Ah. Right. That,” Kitten sighed. “I supposed getting drunk beforehand would be rude…well. Let’s get this over with.”

 “I blame you for this, you know,” Magnus said.

 “Me?” Kitten asked.

 “If you hadn’t give me the idea with the weasels, father never would have trusted me with something like this, and I wouldn’t be stuck talking to a Smurf,” Magnus explained as they left.

 “You’re welcome!” Kitten huffed.

 “So…” Sobekka said. “Are…they a thing?”

 “I cannot tell. But it’s so confusing having all our souls back that it’s hard to tell about emotional things,” Aweil said, shrugging. “Everyone feels a little different, you know?”

 “Yeah, well I think if they’re not a thing then they’re going to be,” Sobekka said.

 “You think that, then.”

 .o.o.o.

 “Very…decorated,” Kitten noted, looking around the Ultramarines’ docked ship.

 “You live in the Golden Palace of Ridiculous Amounts of Gold,” Magnus pointed out.

 “Well, yeah, but we don’t have random flags and seals hanging all over the place,” Kitten said. “Honestly, those must make dusting a _nightmare_ …”

 “Nothing the Ultramarines cannot handle!” an Ultramarine said, appearing to their left.

 Kitten just barely managed to repress a surprised shriek and Magnus disguised his flinch as an annoyed twitch.

 “Where did you…never mind. We’re here to talk to your Chapter Master,” Magnus sighed.

 “Of course! The Honorable and Most Awesome Chapter Master Calgar’s quarters are this way!” the Ultramarine said.

 “Erm, thank you…we didn’t catch your name…?” Kitten said.

 “Marneus Calgar is one of the finest leaders our Chapter has ever had!” the Ultramarine said, ignoring him. “Why, he once ripped a Necron Pylon out of the ground to beat the opposition with!”

 “So we’ve heard,” Kitten muttered, looking at Magnus. Magnus shrugged.

 At last they reached Clagar’s office, and it seemed he had retained his ability of being the only Ultramarine distinguishable from the rest.

 “Chapter Master Clagar, we’ve come to discuss things in more detail now that we have the time,” Kitten said as Magnus conjured a bench for them across from Clagar’s current desk.

 “A pleasure,” Clagar said. “I assume the Emperor has given commands as to the specifics of the setup?”

 “My father was very basic in what he wants,” Magnus said. “My sons are to work alongside the sm— _Ultramarines_ and study their tactics and formations and so on and so forth. Also inform your Librarians on more up-to-date anti-Chaos tactics.”

 “That will be much appreciated,” Clagar said.

 “And I am merely here to assist Magnus in his mission,” Kitten said.

 “Then we are grateful for your presence, Captain-General,” Clagar said. “I believe my men have already met some of your Shield Captains. When, ah, we… _aided_ the Primarch in seeing the Emperor.”

 “Yes, the meeting was mentioned,” Kitten said quickly while Magnus grumbled. Kitten personally thought that was about as tactful as a person could be about it, really. No mention of the box or anything.

 “Has the Emperor perhaps indicated any changes in the state of our Primarch?” Clagar asked.

 “Erm…no. He seems to have some…concerns…about the exact setup of the life support but as of now no orders to enact changes have been made official,” Kitten said carefully.

 “I think his current focus was on retrieving my brother Jaghatai, before calling some of your company back for the crusade,” Magnus said.

 “Yes, some of us went forward to do…dance battle with the Harlequins. I must admit, I do not see the Emperor’s reasoning, but assume he thought it through very carefully,” Clagar said.

 “I was not there when he made the decision and cannot comment,” Magnus said flatly.

 “As the Emperor’s mind is fractured by the Golden Throne, he is prone to issuing orders that on their face can seem ridiculous but work out very well when they come to fruition despite his inability to explain them beforehand,” Kitten said.

 “One way to put his ridiculousness,” Magnus muttered under his breath. “Er…how did it go? Just for the sake of knowing?”

 “We somehow performed exceptionally well. While in power armor. I was impressed,” Clagar admitted. “The, ah, ‘sick beats’ produced by our heavy artillery was somehow also…musical.”

 “Intriguing,” Magnus said. “…Do you have recordings of this event?”

 “Yes,” Clagar muttered, shuddering.

 Kitten hummed. This was getting interesting.

 “Glorious chapter master!” a marine yelled, rushing in.

 “What in the Warp’s massive mindfuck?” Magnus yelped in shock.

 Kitten was surpised as well. This marine actually…stood out a bit. And was not acting like a perfect soldier…actually, going by the speech he was giving, more like an arrogant asshole…

 “Captain Sicarius, I am _busy_!” Clagar said, gesturing at Magnus and Kitten

 “Then I, Cato Sicarius, shall go for now!” Cato said, rushing out.

 “…Why was that man wearing a toilet seat on the back of his armor?” Magnus asked.

 “I’m not sure _you_ get to critique armor styles, horn nips,” Kitten hissed.

 “I can make you silver again; don’t forget it,” Magnus warned.

 “What?” Marneus asked.

 “What?” Kitten yelped. “Oh. Sorry. Um…where were we?”

 “Who was that…person?” Magnus asked, not trying hard enough to conceal his disgust.

 “Cato Sicarius,” Marneus said. “He’s the Captain of the Second Company. A very… _accomplished_ …warrior.”

 “I see,” Magnus said. He could feel the pain in the man’s tone even without his psychic powers. The fact that Marneus was showing _any_ individual traits at all was notable compared to the other Ultramarines seen thus far, but that they were exasperation with his men was even more striking…was he somehow not as affected? Did he know what was wrong?

 “This chat has been very enlightening, Clagar,” Kitten said pleasantly. “We’ll send some of Magnus’ chapter to speak with the Librarians tomorrow, and others will begin observation of chapter formation later on then, shall we?”

 “That sounds fine,” Clagar said. “Erm…Primarch Magnus, apaolgies for Captain Sicarius bursting in like that…”

 “It’s…fine,” Magnus said. “Really. But we must go, yes, Companion?”

  They made their way out of the Ultramarines temporary headquarters.

 “Well, you’re right, that _was_ enlightening,” Magnus said.

 “Is it just me or is Marneus the only normal man in this whole chapter? For a given…normal, of course,” Kitten said.

 “He certainly doesn’t fade among the masses. The only other standout is Sicarius and he…well,” Magnus huffed. “That was _clearly_ a different sort of thing.”

 “I’m going to keep an eye on him. Sicarius, I mean,” Kitten said. “I feel there’s something there.”

 “Something other than the toilet seat?” Magnus asked.

 “You might want to let that go. There’s a lot more going on here than weird fashion,” Kitten said.

.o.o.o.

 “What the _hell_ happened?” Magnus demanded.

 The day had started out fairly simple. The Thousand Sons Plus Kitten had continued to setup their barracks and begun their observation, Magnus began working their initial observations into a report, and Sobekka and led a small squad to where the Ultramarines’ Librarians were set up.

 The last group had all but come _running_ back.

 “I was gonna throw up,” one of the smaller Thousand Sons groaned through a locked jaw, showing he was still resisting the urge.

 “We made an excuse and left as quickly as possible,” Sobekka wheezed, as if he was making the same effort.

 “What?” Magnus asked.

 “Their auras are…sickening,” another marine said, jumping back before one of his brothers threw up on his boots.

 “We had to leave, my Primarch, it was…it was like Tzeentch and Slannesh fucking!” Sobekka said.

 “…Thank you for that thing I never needed to hear,” Magnus said before staggering back. “Wait, _what_?”

 “All the confusing of Tzeentch and all the fucked up of Slannesh, my Primarch,” Sobekka said. “And Orky. Very, very Orky. Only no Orks, just Space Marines. Oh, my head…”

 “Well, _fuck_ ,” Magnus said. “That’s not going to work. I’m going to contact Father, if it’s that bad then we may need some other plan…”

 He stormed back to his quarters, grabbing the communication devices and ringing the control center Corvus had set up at the palace.

 “Hello, who is this?” an insipid voice asked.

 “ _This_ is Magnus the Red, get me my father or barring that my moping brother,” Magnus snapped.

 “Don’t scare the com-serfs, Magnus,” Corvus sighed after a few moments of radio silence. “What is it?”

 “Things are much more fucked up than Father thought. Just being near their ‘Librarians’ is making my sons ill,” Magnus said.

 “…That is bad,” Corvus said. “What intel do you have so far?”

 “Initial observations indicate some form of manipulation surrounding the Utramarines similar to that of the way Orks’ reality-warping psychic fields work,” Magnus said.

 “What.”

 “That has been the general initial reaction, yes,” Magnus said. “The Chapter Master seems unaffected. Overall we can manage to stand being around the rank and file but the ‘Librarians’…I wasn’t there personally so I don’t know how the corruption seems but I’m going to tell you what one of my commanders described to me is a description I refuse to sear on even your annoyingly dreary brain. Take joy that you shall be spared it.”

 “...That’s not going to help me in helping you, but fine,” Corvus said. “I’ve got a portable Vox-caster, give me a few minutes and I’ll get to the Throne Room. This Psyker business is more Father’s area than mine.”

 “Very well,” Magnus said and the feed cut.

 He turned to find Sobekka at the door, “Are you sufficiently recovered for an actual report now? We’re going to have my Father on the line in a few minutes so more than your base description would help.”

 “It is…altering their abilities somehow,” Sobekka said. “And them with it. Theoretically, the physic field effect we’ve been discussing would naturally affect Psykers more than those not as attuned to the Warp.”

 “ **HELLO, HELLO, WHAT IS GOING WRONG ALREADY**?”

  “Father, observation of Ultramarine Librarians by my sons has caused my sons illness. Sobekka, give him your description,” Magnus said.

 “Erm. Yes. My Emperor, it was like Tzeentch and Slannesh fucking!” Sobekka said.

 “ **…HMM. YES. I UNDERSTAND COMPLETELY** ,” the Emperor said.

 “You do?” Magnus asked hopefully.

 “ **YEP. THAT SURE BURNS OUT THE MENTAL RETINAS. YOU’RE GOING TO WANT THE BOYS WITH STRONG STOMACHS TO TAKE ON THAT ONE, MAGNYMAGIC. MAYBE HAVE THE GOLDEN WONDER SUPERVISE, OKAY**?”

 “…Is that all of your advice? What does that feeling _mean_?” Magnus asked.

 “ **IT MEANS FUCKED UP SHIT, YOU ONE-EYED WEIRDO. NOW GO INVESTIGATE IT POSTHASTE**!”

 “Great,” Magnus muttered after the feed cut. “Very instructive.”

 “I am sure you’ll think of something,” Sobekka said loyally before turning at the sound of a commotion, “What the-?”

 “Urgh, what now?” Magnus groaned. They headed back into the common area to see that Kitten and his group had returned and were apparently regaling the rest with their new information at top volume. “Please tell me you’ve had a better morning than the rest of us.”

 Kitten’s head whipped around and Magnus didn’t need the golden visor lifted to know he was being glared at. “Cato Sicarius is _The Worst_.”

 “I said I wanted to pike him, and the Captain General agreed with me!” one of his sons—he was pretty sure it was Amet but it was hard to pick out voices with so much yelling, oh wait, he was a Psyker…yeah, Amet—said.

 Magnus frowned, “I thought you were supposed to be a good influence, Companion.”

 “You have not just spent a morning with Cato Sicarius,” Kitten said.

 “I’ve seen you spend time with your ludicrous fellow Custodes!” Magnus said.

 “Who are _not_ Cato Sicarius,” Kitten replied.

 “Stop being a bad influence on my sons!” Magnus said.

 “They’re thousands of years old and used to work for Tzeentch! What am _I_ going to do?” Kitten asked, throwing his hands in the air.

 “I don’t know but you’re apparently doing it!” Magnus said. “Urgh. All right, new plan: tomorrow, the Captain General and our men with the highest resistance towards mentally taxing psychic reading will go and try and figure out the Librarians and _I_ will go deal with Cato Sicarius.”

 “…So, you’re going to be the one to kill him then?” Amet asked.

 “No one is killing Ultramarines!” Magnus said. “Yet anyway. We don’t have enough data to know if we’ll need to kill them. This research has only just begun, after all. No need to act rashly.”

 “Yeah, okay,” Kitten said. “But if you’re really not going to kill Cato Sicarius, you might want to read some of your anger management books. Heck, I maybe I need to go read some before I keep planning assassinations.”

 “You really are delightfully terrifying,” Sobekka told Kitten.

 “…Thank you?” Kitten asked.

 And so, Aweil resigned himself to the role of The Sane One for the duration of the mission.

.o.o.o.

 “So, are you all steeled and ready?” Kitten asked. Ten Psykers had been selected to go with him, all with mental defenses praised by their fellows.

 “I think so. And we were well-warned,” Aweil said.  “Remember men: as detailed notes as we can manage so our Primarch and the Emperor can fix this mess.”

 “Detailed Notes!” the other nine Thousand Sons marines cheered.

 “You _definitely_ got Magnus’ nerd genes,” Kitten said. “All right men, forward!”

 There were only about a dozen Ultramarine Librarians detached to serve with the chapter at the moment, all sharing the same quarters off to the side of the Ultramarine barracks. Apparently, that was still enough of them to generate sufficient WTF to make seasoned Thousand Sons puke, and Kitten noticed the group he’d brought stiffen.

 “Still good?” he hissed at Aweil.

 “I can take it,” Aweil replied.

 Kitten wasn’t a Psyker—at least he was pretty sure, sometimes the Emperor and Magnus made weird comments that made him question it—but he felt something very _off_ about the Ultrmarines. Now, the main Space Marines With Psychic Powers he hung around may have been former-evil-Chaos-demon-assholes, but they still didn’t make his skin crawl _that_ much. The Emperor barely did at all unless he was trying, and Magnus was only a little more than that…again, unless he was messing with Kitten and being a jerk. Which he was prone to when annoyed.

 Which was a lot, the jerk.

 Anyway, Kitten generally knew the feel of Psykers by now. This…was not that feel. Or if it was, it was very…twisted.

 “Hello, comrades!” Aweil said, his voice no longer showing any strain. “We are sorry our brothers had to leave so quickly yesterday, we realized there had been a scheduling oversight.”

 “No matter,” one of the Ultramarine Librarians assured them. Kitten realized he could barely tell them apart. Actually, scratch that, he _couldn’t_ tell them apart beyond one of them having a rank insignia.

 He glanced at the Thousand Sons. Even ignoring Aweil’s signs of rank, they all had pretty different armor…and weapons…and even just ways of holding themselves.

 It had been like this yesterday. Everyone but Cato Sicarius and Marneus Clagar had been oddly identical.

 Kitten turned back into the conversation, as the Ultrmarine explained to Aweil how Librarians were trained on Ultramar. It sounded…okay? Magnus had been one of the developers of the original Librarian training and from what Kitten had read up on this didn’t sound too different from those original plans beyond being more stringent in some areas…

 Really, in-depth Psyker-talk was beyond Kitten, even with all the reading he’d done. He decided to continue looking at the unusual amount of sameness he was seeing instead.

 For example, the weapons. He could see how if Librarians were all a supplementary company they could have their own basic set of weapons but…everyone here had the same weapons. _Exactly_ the same weapons. That was a little unusual. There should have been at least a little variance in the staffs to account for minor differences in skill, for example, and the same with the guns…a little personalization too…

 And they all acted the part of the Perfect Space Marine Librarians, just like the majority of the Ultramarines acted the part of Perfect Space Marine.

 Wait…what had Magnus said about how Ork Psychic Weirdness worked? Something about…thinking it and making it real? So, if someone, or something, like that thought of Ultramarines as the perfect Space Marines…would that make it so? That didn’t sound right, maybe he was missing something…

 “Captain General, have you worked with Librarians?” one of the Ultramarines asked him.

 “Not so much. The main Psykers I have experience with are the Emperor himself and Magnus,” Kitten said.

 “Ah. Even the mighty Ultramarine Librarians must pale in comparison to the Holy Emperor and the strongest Psyker of the Primarchs,” the Ultramarine said.

 “The Emperor _really_ doesn’t want to be called Holy,” Kitten said. “…And technically you _were_ able to capture Magnus earlier.”

 “Yes, but that was…that was…” the Ultramarine faltered. “That was a careful operation staged by many of the chapter!”

 Hmm. Kitten had broken their script a bit there. They knew Magnus was the second greatest Psyker in the Imperium, and could articulate that, but were then unable to explain how that obvious fact was overcome for his capture.

 Aweil seemed to have caught on too, “I’m actually quite curious as to how you all captured our Primarch. It seems a little hazy even for him, so perhaps you could fill in the blanks.”

 “We…we had a containment unit made specifically to contain him,” one Librarian said. “Not even our mightiest Librarians could break out from it!”

 “But Magnus is mightier than your mightiest librarians,” Kitten countered. “So how did you know it was _really_ strong enough?”

 “I…we…followed proper Codex procedure and all went well,” one Librarian said.

 “We had Cato Sicarius!” another added.

 “Oh, him,” Kitten said. “Erm…and what did he do?”

 “Led the effort!” one Librarian said. Kitten wasn’t entirely sure if it was one of the same two or not.

 “…Anything else?” Aweil asked.

 “What do you mean?” a Librarian asked him.

 “Cato Sicarius. Can you…tell us anything else?” Aweil asked.

 “Oh, Cato Sicarius is one of the greatest Ultramarines of us all!” a Librarian said. “You see, he-”

.o.o.o.

 “Magnus, we have a fucking problem,” Kitten said.

 “Tell me about it, none of the standard ‘codex formations’ would make any fucking sense for my sons to use!” Magnus said.

 “No, about the Librarians. Something is really wrong,” Kitten said. “Ah, Aweil described it as…oh, what was it…similar to arp-induced amnesia?”

 Magnus looked up from his books. “That only happens when the Warp makes you see something so unbelievable that you forget it ever happened so that you don’t go insane.”

 “Uh-huh. And they seem to have that about your capture. No one could remember how they did it. They don’t even know how they stuffed you in that box!” Kitten groaned.

 “I don’t want to hear about the box,” Magnus huffed.

 “Well it’s kind of important that you do!” Kitten said. “I mean, one of their most important and dangerous missions in recent history and they seem to have _no clue_ how they actually did it! Just ‘we followed the Codex’ well I’m pretty damn sure the Codex doesn’t have explicit directions for stuffing Demon Princes in boxes, so what the hell did they actually _do_?”

 “ _I don’t know, okay_!” Magnus yelled. “I should know but I _don’t_ so fucking _drop it_!”

  “This isn’t even about you being embarrassed about the _box_ is it?” Kitten asked. “You’re upset because _you don’t know something_ and you not knowing it is important to the discussion because you _should know it_.”

 “I can’t hear you,” Magnus huffed.

 “Would you listen to yourself? We have a genuine mystery on our hands, something confusing and strange that we need to _learn,_ and you just want to plug your fingers in your ears because a small part of it is a little frustrating for you!” Kitten said.

“It is not frustrating!” Magnus said.

 “Yes it is, you always get this pissy when you’re frustrated!” Kitten argued.

 “How _dare_ you!” Magnus said.

 “Magnus, we _need_ to figure this out!” Kitten said. “It is vital we figure out what is wrong, the Ultramarines are a big part of the Empire’s military.”

 “Oh, so we should do this…for the _greater good_?” Magnus asked snidely.

 Steam nearly erupted from Kitten’s ears before he suddenly punched Magnus in the face.

 “You want to talk ‘greater good’ you gene-defected weirdo nerd?” Kitten yelled.

 “What did you call me?” Magnus hissed, easily punching Kitten across the room.

 “I said your fucking gene seed’s defective, you wanker!” Kitten yelled.

 “At least I’m not a repressed errand boy scared of taking off my damn armor because I’ll go as loony as my stripper coworkers!” Magnus barked.

 Kitten threw a chair at him, “Fuck you!”

 “I’d like to see you fucking _try_!” Magnus hissed, incinerating the chair.

 “ **THAT IS FUCKING ENOUGH**!”

 Kitten and Magnus turned to see a shaking Amet holding a vox-phone.

 “…Uh oh,” Kitten muttered.

 “Father,” Magnus huffed.

 “ **SO, LET ME GET THIS STRAIGHT BECAUSE I JUST HAD A SPACE MARINE COME CRYING TO ME BECAUSE DADDY AND KITTEN WERE FIGHTING** ,” the Emperor said. “ **YOU TWO HAVE RANDOMLY DECIDED TO FUCK THE MISSION AND KILL EACH OTHER, THEN**?”

 “ _No_ ,” Kitten said. “We just…got stressed and tempers flared.”

 “ **YOU DIPSHITS HAVE BEEN ON THAT ROCK FOR LESS THAN THREE FUCKING DAYS. BY MY GLORIOUS BONES THAT IS FUCKING WEAK. MAGNUS, YOU LIVED IN TZEENTCH’S ZONE OF THE WARP FOR TEN THOUSAND YEARS AND YOU CANNOT TAKE THREE DAYS ON A MISSION NOW? DAD-EMPEROR IS DISSAPOINT**.”

 “I would like to point out that the amount of _wrong_ flying around here is clearly giving us issues and thus I think there’s something to be said for pleading temporary insanity,” Magnus said.

 “ **FUCK THAT SHIT. YOU ARE THERE TO ANALYZE THE SMURFS’ INSANITY, NOT HAVE YOUR OWN. GET WITH THE FUCKING PROGRAM. I EXPECT BETTER OF YOU BOTH. MAGNUS, YOU SURVIVED THE WARP AND TZEENTCH. KITTY-KAT, YOU SRUVIVED YOUR TRIPPY COWORKERS. MAKE IT FUCKING WORK. READ YOUR SELF HELP BOOKS AND DO GROUP THERAPY IF YOU HAVE TO BUT WORK THIS SHIT OUT. YOU ARE GROWN-ASS TEN-THOUSAND-PLUS-YEAR-OLD MEN. ACT LIKE IT. EMPS OUT**.”

 “…Well that was embarrassing,” Magnus said after the connection cut. He sighed heavily. “Sorry for the ‘greater good’ crack.”

 “Sorry for calling your genome flawed,” Kitten said.

 “I mean, it _does_ have a high rate of mutation,” Magnus sighed, shrugging. “I _am_ the most mutated Primarch, even without Tzeentch’s additions. It’s a thing.”

 “Yeah but it was still a dick move and I’m sorry,” Kitten said. “Speaking of dick moves, can you stop acting like I’m going to hold the soul thing over your head or whatever? I’m only going to use it if you _completely_ lose your shit for some reason. Like, you’re _always_ the one to bring it up. I’m not fucking with you because I technically own your soul and it’d be kind of nice for you to stop acting like I am whenever I make an offhand comment totally unrelated to it.”

 “Look, I’m just testy that someone else owns my soul right now,” Magnus said. “Not exactly great memories of the last guy who had it. I mean, I suppose you have to hold onto it until we deal with the Furry Fuck or whatever but you don’t seem all that concerned about how to give it back.”

 “I was just going to play dice with you and keep betting it until you won,” Kitten said.

 “Really?” Magnus asked.

 “Yeah, seemed easiest. That or checkers,” Kitten said. “I’d offer chess but that might take too long.”

 “Oh. I thought it was going to be ludicrously more complicated,” Magnus admitted.

 “Why? I got your soul in a game. You should be able to get it from me in one, right?” Kitten asked. “Logically speaking, I kind of thought it was obvious.”

 Magnus grumbled.

 “You’re still too used to Tzeentch,” Kitted chided, before sighing and putting a hand on Magnus’ shoulder. “Look, Magnus. I’d like to think that after all we’ve been through, we’re friends. And friends don’t keep friends’ souls from them unless they have their friends’ best interests in mind. As soon as it’s safe to give it back to you, we’re playing some random game and I’m betting the thing over and over if necessary until you win it back. I’m being straight with you.”

 “Admittedly…not something I’m used to,” Magnus said. “And you’re right, we are friends. And I’m sorry for being a shit friend by bringing up a bad breakup of yours just to get at you. More than once.”

 “Suppose I need to work on that…got anything in your self-help books?” Kitten asked.

 “Well I’ve got a ton on anger so there must be _some_ with parts on post-affair anger of some kind,” Magnus said.

.o.o.o.

 “Your kids are such nerds,” Kitten sighed. Apparently, word had gotten out that Magnus and the Captain General were both reading, and several Thousand Sons had joined them with their own books, datapads, and scrolls.

 “You’ve said that already,” Aweil noted.

 “It’s still true,” Kitten said as he poured over _Heartbreakers Don’t Equal Heretics_. He wasn’t entirely sure how that had ended up in Magnus’ anger management pile, but then the Emperor had gotten Dorn to do the book-grabbing and so Dorn had probably just grabbed everything to do with temper in general, being literal as always.

 “You play a ridiculous card game only liked by my father, Tzeentch, and the Deceiver,” Magnus said, not looking up from his own selection, a brightly colored tome entitled _When You Get Mad, You Lose_ , which belied the massive amount of academic footnotes Kitten could see when Magnus turned the pages. “Congrats, you too are a nerd.”

 “You play Paradox-Billiards-Vostroyan-Roulette-Fourth Dimensional-Hypercube-Chess-Strip Poker?” Sobekka asked eagerly.

 “You know what that is?” Kitten asked.

 “Yeah, some of Tzeentch’s greater demons were always trying to get better at it. It was fun watching them try to out plot each other,” Sobekka said. “Are you any good?”

 “Well…I beat the Emperor and Tzeentch,” Kitten said, shrugging.

 “No. Way,” Amet said as several of his brothers started clamoring to know how.

 “And this is where having knowledge-seeking progeny bites me in the ass…” Magnus muttered under his breath as Kitten tried to brush off the story-seeking. Whether he was trying to protect the Emperor about trying to kill Roboute, Magnus about being stupid enough to leave the palace and nearly get snatched by Tzeentch, or just didn’t feel like going play by play about a card game wasn’t clear; but Magnus’ sons were persistent…and going to try mind-reading if they didn’t get their way soon enough. “No fucking with his head, I like him functional.”

 “What?” Kitten asked, whipping back around to face Magnus.

 “Some of them are about _this close_ to just reading your mind in a ham-fisted manner,” Magnus said, holding up two fingers with barely any space between them. He knew his kids.

 “Great. Impatient nerds forgetting their mind-manners,” Kitten muttered. “I just exploited a loophole the Emperor wasn’t paying attention to and beat Tzeentch by not playing his game of figuring out plots and instead just fucking attacking him.”

 “…Seriously?” Sobekka asked.

 “Yeah. Seriously,” Kitten said.  

 “That sounds…surprisingly less awesome than ‘I beat the Emperor of Mankind and Tzeentch of the Chaos Gods in a strategic card game,’” Amet said.

 “Because that card game is _lame_ ,” Magnus said.

 “You play Red-Blue!” Kitten said. “I don’t know what that means, but you said it was similar!”

 “You can’t use something you don’t understand as a proper argument!” Magnus complained.

 “I just did,” Kitten said primly, making Magnus grumble.

 “Yeah, Red-Blue is pretty volatile…not that it’s not awesome,” Amet mused.

  “…Welp, I’ve read this thing cover to cover,” Aweil said, putting down the Codex Astartes. “Nothing about kidnapping Demon Princes in it anywhere. Honestly the only thing it says about a hypothetical fight with our Primarch is to bring Blanks.”

 “So, nothing about gift wrapping me, huh?” Magnus asked.

 “Not at all, My Primarch,” Aweil said.

 “Well. Fuck. That was Plan A,” Magnus said.

 “Technically…it’s not wrong,” Kitten said. “They did bring Blanks. And a box of Psyker-resistant material, which the Blanks were then chained to…”

 “Even if we accept the box as a workable containment method there is the small matter of _getting me into it_ ,” Magnus said.

 “Maybe they told you Leman Russ was in there?” Amet asked.

 Several of Amet’s brothers punched him as Kitten dove for his spell book.

 “ _Leman. Russ?_ ” Magnus snarled.

 “Fuck-fuck-fuck-,” Kitten muttered.

 “N-now my Primarch, I’m sure that was just a _very stupid joke_ by one of our younger members…” Aweil said.

 “ _Why do you think I would fall for that furry fuck pretending to be in a box_?” Magnus demanded, pulsing with angry energy.

 “Because you want to kill him a lot?” Amet asked weakly.

 “…Leman Russ wasn’t even in the box,” Kitten said, looking up from his spellbook.

 “ _I don’t care if he was in the fucking box or not_!” Magnus snapped.

 “Well, fuck, he’s stuck on the topic now,” Kitten sighed. “Wait. Magnus! Did your father ever get around to telling you he ordered the Space Wolves renamed?”

 “ ** _Why_** _would father want to rename the **fucking Space Wolves**?”_

 “He says now they are to be called the Space Corgis!” Kitten said. “And their Wolf Priests are now Corgomancers!”

 Magnus stared at him. The storm swirling in the Primarch’s lone eye slowly died and Magnus quietly asked, “Companion, are you fucking serious right now?”

 “You _better_ believe I am. Karstodes told me all about it,” Kitten said. “And then the Emperor did too, because he realized I’d think Karstodes was fucking with me.”

 “…Corgomancers?” Magnus asked, grinning. The evil aura that had previously surrounded him vanished without a trace.

 “Yep,” Kitten said. Sobekka started howling with laughter and had to be caught before he fell over.

 “Fucking Corgomancers…” Magnus snickered, putting a hand to his forehead. “Oh, that is _good_. I want to hear all about this! Spare no details!”

 “As far as I know, the Emperor thought they were taking the wolf thing too far and decided to ‘fix’ it,” Kitten said. “I’m not sure why he picked corgis. Maybe because Dorn likes corgis? At least I think he likes corgis…”

 “The corgi is actually an excellent breed of dog, not that furry weirdos like Leman ever got it. He never saw the beauty in the long study of domesticated breeds, no, it was always “wolfs” this and “wolfs” that. Seriously, half the time he never even got to _wolves_ despite that being the proper conjugation of the noun!” Magnus said. “Maybe a domesticated breed will knock some sense into his head…”

 “Oh, and the Corgomancers are also in trouble for not realizing they were dallying with demons pretending to be nature spirits,” Kitten added. That got several of the Thousand Sons excited. “All right, all right, people you don’t like are suffering, good, _good_ , let’s get back to the task at hand.”

 “Well. We still don’t know how they got me in the box, which means we don’t know how they seemingly beat all odds,” Magnus said.

“…Reality warps around them because it likes them better?” Aweil suggested sarcastically.

 “Let’s be serious here, reality itself doesn’t pick sides,” Sobekka said. “…And if it was sentient enough to do so, the Chaos Gods would’ve totally fucked it by now.”

 “ _Why_ are you the second?” Kitten wondered.

 “He’s surprisingly good with the day to day tasks of running things,” Aweil said.

 “I’m Boring, Yet Practical and unbothered by paperwork,” Sobekka said.

 “He’s practically a saintly manager when he’s not being insane,” Magnus said. “Off topic, _again_. Box. How. Now.”

 “Maybe focusing on the boxing too much is preventing us from seeing the larger picture. Maybe some of their other victories?” Amet piped up. “I mean, not that I don’t hold my brothers in the highest esteem, but we can get a little tunnel-visioned at times…”

 “Say that again!” Magnus said sharply.

 “…I…hold my brothers in the highest esteem?” Amet said slowly.

 “That’s it!” Magnus told Kitten. “ _That’s_ what you were missing in your theory, Companion! _Who_ thinks of the Ultramarines like Amet thinks of his battle-brothers?”

 “Each other!” Kitten said. “Oh, that is _devious_.”

 “I know, I love it and _wish_ it was my idea,” Magnus said. “The combined psychic feelings of all Ultramarines towards each other, amplified by an Ork-like belief field-”

 “Would then lead to the Ultramarines fulfilling that role and accomplishing the un-accomplishable simply through the power of belief!” Kitten said. “Humans do have some records of similar, the Soritas spring to mind.”

 “Right, the murder-nuns!” Sobekka said. “Powered by their belief in the ‘holy’ Emperor! Wait, what do they believe in now?”

 “Allegedly, my father’s former abs via old pinups,” Magnus muttered. “Or just the general glory of humanity, but who gives a fuck? We finally have a reasonable reason!”

 “Now we just need to figure out what to do about it!” Kitten said.

 “Well. Fuck. We’ve never really broken Ork belief fields…” Magnus said.

 “Oh. Right,” Kitten said. “Well, I suppose now is the time to start trying plans.”

 “All right, hear me out,” Sobekka said, making several of his brothers cringe and his gene father groan. Apparently, this sort of thing happened a lot with him. “We get several billion gallons of carbonated liquid-”

 “NO,” Magnus said.

 Sobekka pressed, “But if we just-”

 “NO.” Magnus stared his son down until Sobekka huffed and broke eye contact.

 “…This is normal for him?” Kitten asked Amet quietly.

 Amet nodded.

 Kitten thought for a little while as more suggestions were given before adding his own, “Maybe we try to make the Ultramarines embrace individualism as a positive Space Marine trait? Something that sets humanity apart from the Xenos?”

 “That could work,” Aweil mused.

 “Or we could accidentally turn them into some hyper-individualistic weirdos…but then we’d at least be able to tell which one is talking,” Magnus said. “So, I suppose we’ll try that. Preferably as soon as possible.”

 “The whole ‘who said that’ thing is messing with you?” Kitten asked.

 “Like you wouldn’t _believe_ ,” Magnus growled.

 .o.o.o.

 “So now Magnus is going to talk to their Librarians?” Sobekka asked Kitten.

 “Yep. Going to see if he gets a better read than you did,” Kitten said before peering at Sobekka’s data pad. “Erm…what is that?”

 “Requisitions and other paperwork,” Sobekka said. “Aweil’s the one who keeps us all sane, and I have to do the paperwork in return. I can sit still longer than him.”

 “I’ve been told,” Kitten said as Magnus barged in.

 “We have a problem,” Magnus said.

 “Oh no, did you discover something even _worse_ about the Librarians?” Sobekka asked.

 “No, but a fucking huge Warp rift just opened and we’re going to have company very, very shortly,” Magnus said.

 “Hm, the Emperor thought we’d have more time than that,” Kitten said. “I guess now is when we observe the Ultramarines in battle to test our theory…as best we can observe while also making sure we don’t die…”

 “I am very fond of not dying,” Sobekka agreed as the rest of the legion started to crowd into the room.

 “All right everyone, get ready to fight!” Magnus said. “We have a huge rift opening up and we’re going to show what’s on the other side that we want it to stay there!”

 “Sounds good!” Kitten said.

  “Yeah! We get to hit stuff! With _magic_!” Sobekka said, hefting his gun high in joy. “Praise…wait, who do we praise for this?”

 “My father with shit multiple warp storms if you treat him like a god, much less as a god in place of Tzeentch,” Magnus said, before smirking, “so ‘Praise the Emperor’ works just fine.”

 “Magnus!” Kitten groaned. “…Ah, fuck it. I want to hit stuff too, just without magic. I feel like this is going to be a good day for shield-bashing.”

 “To shield-bashing!” Sobekka yelled, being echoed by several other Psykers.

 “…Is he always like that before a fight?” Kitten asked quietly.

 “Oh, yes. If he wasn’t a Psyker, Khorne would have _loved_ his combat-happy self,” Magnus said. “He’s a little organ-explode-y too so…you know, if you’re not into that…don’t fight next to him.”

 “Noted,” Kitten said. “I was going to stick with Amet’s group since we’re reinforcing the Second Company.”

 “…You’re not going to kill Cato Sicarius, right?” Magnus asked. “I feel like if we’re going to be friends, I should check on that sort of thing.”

 “No. But if he dies, I want to see it,” Kitten said.

 “Yeah, that sounds fine,” Magnus said, shrugging.

 “…You know, Sicarius claims he captured you by himself,” Kitten added.

 “Nice try, but I’ve been putting up with Tzeentch for…wait, could he tell you how?” Magnus asked.

 “Yeah, nope,” Kitten said. “Just that it was him being awesome awesomely.”

 “Well fuck him then,” Magnus muttered. “But still, no killing him.”

.o.o.o.

 The battle wasn’t honestly too hard for Magnus, even with the vast array of demons on the field. Either no one had expected a Primarch around or anyone closer to his level was holding back for the moment.

 So, he occupied his time with making sure none of his men died—easier said than done, his kids were definitely getting distracted by the Ultramines’ weirdness of ‘not getting shot when they totally should have been shot’ and other such shenanigans that just _begged_ to be analyzed carefully…when not in battle! Still, that took up more of his time.

 So far he’d managed to keep tabs on Kitten, his friend apparently doing just fine over with the Second Company’s plan to fight a Slanesshi-Nurglite mix that was quite stomach-turning, as hordes went.

 A loud cry caught his attention, and he incinerated a path of demons to the scource.

 “Ooh!” Lucius the Eternal crowed, dropping his latest victim. “My, my, Magnus the Red! And looking _amazing_!”

 Magnus rolled his eye. It had to be that one.

 Well, not like he didn’t know enough spells to get rid of this…

 Wait, shit, if he killed Lucius then Lucius would just become him because of Slannesh fuckery and wouldn’t that be a fucking nightmare? Hmm, better to just try and trap him-

 Lucius was stabbed from behind.

 “ _Marneus_!” Magnus blurted out, unable to do anything but say the Marine’s name in shock.

 “He only becomes you if you’re satisfied in killing him, right?” Marneus said. “Nothing satisfies me anymore.”

 “Because things always work out?” Magnus asked knowingly.

 “Yep,” Marneus said. “There’s no honor in it.”

 “Well. That won’t do,” Magnus said.

 “What won’t do?” Marneus asked.

 “Well we’re going to fix your chapter eventually and in that case you’re probably going to feel satisfied at some point and we’ll be stuck with that asshole Lucius again,” Magnus said. “Won’t do.”

 “…What do you propose?”

 “Wipe your mind and make you think the guy splattered around here did it and then killed himself to prevent Lucius from coming back,” Magnus said matter-of-factly. “Like any good Ultramarine would.”

 He snapped his fingers rewriting Marneus’ memories on the matter.

 “Sad of him to die like that…” Marneus said.

 “He died with honor, and perhaps in the next life will regain his sense of self,” Magnus said. “Now, we were speaking about how you feel there’s no honor in what’s going on?”

 “In case you haven’t noticed…we always win. We lose some men, possibly to keep the balance of reality…but we always win, no matter how nonsensically,” Marneus said. “…You think you can fix this, then?”

 “Tell me what I am trying to fix,” Magnus said.

 Marneus sighed, “We were cornered by a Hive Fleet, all doomed to die. I…I made a deal. It wasn’t a demon, I’ve fought too many demons to think it was…it was something else. It called itself the Warder. I…I took the deal and it made us into…this shameful mockery of a chapter.”

 “Hmm. I see…” Magnus said.

 “You’re…taking this rather…well,” Marneus said.

 Magnus frowned, “You made a deal with a powerful being to save your men. I’d be a bigger hypocrite than…than _hypocrites_ I myself dislike, if I condemned you for that.”

 “What?” Marneus asked. “You mean, your fall to Chaos…?”

 “Was primarily fueled by an attempt to save my legion,” Magnus said before smirking at Marneus. “We can debate whose deal worked out better, I’m sure, but frankly I think it’s a very… _human_ trait, to be driven to extremes in defense of what we care for. It can drive us to great things, or foolish ones.”

 “My deal with the Warder seems to have been foolish,” Marneus said.

 “In many ways,” Magnus said. “On the other hand, it allowed your men to have the ability to return me to my father’s side, and to retrieve the Artifacts of Vulkan for the Salamanders which led to the return of my brothers Vulkan and Corvus.”

 “…Corvus Corax’s return was related to the artifacts?” Marneus asked.

 “ _Long_ story,” Magnus said, desperate to never have to tell it. “Point being, it’s at least put you in a position to make amends, since I and my sons are here now to notice what it going on, to tell the Emperor, and perhaps to fix it with you.”

 “I worry for my men,” Marneus said. “This has…changed them. Sicarius not so much, but the rest…”

 “We’ve…noticed some things,” Magnus said. “But we have resources you don’t have alone. Maybe we can get the Ultramarines back to…what they’re supposed to be. Hopefully before we figure out a way to wake Roubute up because he would probably _shit a brick_ if I made him deal with you all right now.”

 “It would be the ultimate humiliation,” Marneus said, burying his face in his hands.

 “Or _maybe_ what we need to break this phenomenon. You never know,” Magnus mused before wincing at Marneus’ face. “I’m just making it worse now, aren’t I?”

 “I deserve it, keep going.”

 “…No. I will not be a hypocrite,” Magnus said, clenching his fists. Continuing to taunt the man was what his father would do, he was sure of it. “We’re going to figure this out. I’m sure with all we can report to my father he’ll have some idea of what has befallen your men and what to do about it. We will solve this, Marneus. You have my word.”

 “Thank you, Magnus,” Marneus said.

 “You’re welcome,” Magnus said. At the very least, he could tease Roboute about this after they woke the sad sack up. That’d be fun. But business first.

 He incinerated a wave of demons.

 Yep. Business first.

.o.o.o.

 “So, was the Captain General involved in your quest for answers?” Marneus asked.

 “He was. We should find him, he may have another perspective on this that aids our understanding,” Magnus said.

 An Ultramarine ran up, “Chapter Master! Reporting for the Second Company!”

 “…Why isn’t Cato Sicarius reporting?” Marneus asked.

 Magnus wondered if Kitten had actually found a way to get the bastard killed, but sadly the Ultramarine answered, “Erm…his armor has…been damaged…badly.”

 “…What happened to his armor?” Marneus asked.

 Another one of the nondescript soldiers of the Second Company coughed awkwardly from behind his compatriot, “Cato Sicarius made an…unfortunate…comment on the nature of the company losses to the Captain General of the Custodes, and the Captain General punched him in the crotch so hard his power-armor caved in and is…well…kind of crushing his entire pelvic region, Chapter Master.”

 “I have got to see this,” Marneus said. “For…reporting reasons. To the Emperor, who will doubtless need to make a judgment call on this altercation.”

 “As the Primarch overseeing this venture I will need to do the same!” Magnus added, trying and failing to not sound too eager. “For reporting reasons. Of course.”

 The both hurried to what looked like the area the medics had set up after the battle.

 “This is outrageous!” Cato Sicarius squeaked. Marneus started snickering.

 “Oh-okay,” Marneus said, trying toget a hold of himself. “So…where…where is-”

 “Hello, gentlemen!” Kitten said, appearing out of the crowd. “I’ll be reporting on the Second Company due to Cat Sicarius’ unfortunate present issues!”

 Magnus could _feel_ the Custodes beaming at them both from under the helmet. He fought the urge to bitch about how weird such strong waves of _happy_ felt. This was his friend, after all.

 “I fucking love you, Captain General,” Marneus said.

 “…Huh?” Kitten asked.

 “He hates Cato Sicarius’ guts and loves that the man is singing more soprano than usual,” Magnus said. “…Seriously, you just _punched_ him?”

 “He said all the losses were acceptable which they were not, I frankly think his Company was set up poorly as it was designed to funnel somewhat-weakened demons at him via the other Space Marines, leading to their doing more of the fighting but him getting most of the final blows,” Kitten said, folding his arms with a huff.

 “Fuck. I should have punched him in the face more before now,” Marneus said.

 “I think the Captain General did you one better. Nice job,” Magnus said.

 “It was…a moment of raw indignation, really,” Kitten said, shrugging.

 “It’s hopefully a moment of growth for him,” Marneus said. “I must see to my chapter. Gentlmen.”

 “So…that happened,” Kitten said as Marneus walked off. “Did you learn something?”

 “Indeed, it turns out our good friends Marneus made a deal with some reality-altering being, resulting in the current state of his Chapter,” Magnus said.

 “ _What_?” Kitten asked. “So…he knows. We were right about that.”

 “Mm-hm,” Magnus hummed. “It seems his price was having his personality be unaffected so the rest of them can drive him mad. He was trying to save them from the Tyranids when he made the deal.”

 “Well there’s our motive and method,” Kitten said.

 “He called the being ‘The Warder,’” Magnus said. “I’ll admit, I’ve never heard of it. It’s not one of Tzeentch’s pals or subordinates unless it was the Changeling in a guise. Maybe a C’Tan? Have you seen anything about it in the Black Library?”

 “Warder…Warder…” Kitten mused. “Nothing comes to me right now.”

 “Well, lucky for you, you’re on a ship full of _nerds_ who will be only too happy to look into it,” Magnus chuckled.

 “Your sons are going to outright cheer if I bring them stuff from the Black Library, aren’t they?” Kitten asked.

 “You can do that?” Magnus asked eagerly. Kitten stared at him and he coughed. “Um…that is…good. You probably should only take your normal level of books at a time, as to not anger Cegorach. But yes, that sounds very nice.”

 Kitten shook his head, “Nerd.”

 “Looked in a mirror lately?” Magnus asked airily.

 “Yeah, and I had depth perception when I did it,” Kitten said.

 “I have depth perception!” Magnus sputtered.

 “Psychic depth perception doesn’t count!”

.o.o.o.

 “I mean really, it’s horrifying when I actually think about it,” Aweil confessed. “That must have been why their Psykers felt so wrong, they may have the most self-awareness left and thus we feel how they feel it’s wrong.”

 “Likely,” Magnus said. “We’ll work on it.”

 “Oh man, some of the others are going to be so mad they missed this. We got mystery, intrigue, and a demon invasion while some of them had to be off fortifying with Dorne or getting hugged by Vulkan,” Sobekka said. “Ah, good times…”

 “You all have such a weird idea of good times,” Kitten chuckled as he walked into the ship’s library. He blinked at everyone staring at him. “What?”

 “You said he never takes off his armor!” Aweil said, pointing accusingly at Magnus.

 “He doesn’t! You don’t!” Magnus said before waving a hand at Kitten. “What is this?”

 “Me enjoying being on a ship full of people who won’t try to sexually assault me while my armor gets cleaned?” Kitten asked dryly. “Same reason you idiots are out of armor.”

 “Oh. Yeah. We were all kinds blood and guts covered, huh?” Sobekka admitted.

 “…So. That’s what you look like,” Magnus said. “How do you have the middle name ‘Goldilocks’ if you’re not blonde?”

 “It was from a porridge-related incident,” Kitten said, shrugging.

 “Huh,” Magnus said. “…Do I get to taunt the trippy ones that I got to see you out of armor or will that make them more determined to strip you?”

 “It will; so if you do it, I’ll stab you,’ Kitten muttered, grabbing a new self-help book.

 “So…you two waiting to get back to the palace or what? I mean, you can just teleport, my Primarch,” Aweil said.

 “Eh. It can wait a day or two. I want to catch up on my reading,” Magnus said.

 “I’m fine with a break,” Kitten admitted.

 “Cool. To goofing off!” Sobekka said, raising his book in the air as everyone settled in to get to their chosen reading.

**Author's Note:**

> I had no idea this thing would be this long, but here it is!  
> Awiel, Sobekka, and Amet are all Thousand Sons I made up for the sake of having named characters to talk with when so many Thousand Sons, especially higher ranked ones on the wiki I read for research, are dead. Srsly.  
> This whole thing was a blast to write, especially Kitten and Magnus getting into a fight the Emperor breaks up because they were scaring his grandkids. Honesly part of me wanted the fight to be longer, but I think I got the point across.


End file.
